Free Furious Jones and the Assassin’s Secret by Tim Kehoe Page B

said. “You’ll have another three hours from Chicago to Galena.”
    â€œGreat. Do you go see Andrew up at Yale a lot?” I asked.
    â€œNot a lot. He’s superbusy with school and directing,” Emma said.
    â€œOh. Directing? Like a play?”
    â€œA musical. He’s part of Dramat at Yale.”
    I assumed by the way she said “Dramat” that I was supposed to know what Dramat was. And I was clearly supposed to be impressed. I wasn’t. I’d met enough private school punks over the years to know what they were like. Heck, my dad had been one. I said nothing. But I must have made a face.
    â€œHey,” she said defensively, seeing the look on my face. “Andrew’s a good guy.”
    â€œWhat? I didn’t say anything.”
    â€œYou didn’t have to. But Andrew’s not like that. He also rows crew for Yale.”
    â€œI’m sure he does.” I smiled. “Ivy league, rowing, drama—­I’m sure he’s a normal great guy.”
    â€œSeriously!” she exclaimed. Her face was red. I’d hit a nerve. “How about you, mister?” she said, trying to change the subject. “Anyone special in your life?” she asked.
    â€œNope.”
    â€œCome on. There’s gotta be someone? Somewhere?”
    â€œNope,” I said. “I literally have nobody anywhere.” And I didn’t. No good friends. No family. Nothing left.
    â€œSo what’s Andrew’s musical about?” I asked.
    â€œIt’s Annie ,” Emma replied.
    â€œ Annie ?” I repeated. “At Yale? Isn’t that, like, a kids’ musical?”
    â€œI know, it sounds a little crazy. But Andrew’s vision for Annie is amazing. Really.”
    â€œHis vision —for Annie ?”
    â€œYeah, he’s very excited. It’s hard to explain. He describes it as sort of Annie meets Hamlet .”
    I said nothing. There was a long silence before Emma said, “You said you lost both of your parents? That sounds rough.”
    â€œWhat’s this? You’re changing the topic,” I said.
    â€œI’m a reporter. I’m always curious to hear the story. And I’m tired of talking about me.”
    â€œI don’t want to bum you out,” I said. “My mom died about seven months ago, and my dad died a couple of days ago. It hasn’t been a great year.” I stared at the seat in front of me. I had never talked to anyone about my mom. Or her death. And, obviously, I hadn’t had a chance to talk about my dad or grandpa. At least not with anyone but Douglas. I don’t know what it was about Emma, but I wanted to tell her everything. I wanted to tell her how much it had hurt whenmy mom had died. And how much it had hurt when my dad had stayed away after the funeral.
    â€œOh, I’m so sorry, Furious.”
    â€œNo, it’s okay.” I continued to stare at the seat in front of me. “I’ve just never really talked about it before.”
    She stood up. “Here,” she said. “Scoot over. I’m gonna sit on your side.”
    I slid into the seat next to the window, and Emma sat down next to me. She smelled great.
    â€œWhat happened to your mom?” she asked.
    â€œOh, man. I’m not really sure.” I rubbed my face. “It’s kind of a long story.”
    She put her hands in the air. “Well, we’ve got nothing but time.”
    â€œIt’s not that I don’t want to talk about it. It’s just—just different. My life is different.”
    â€œ Your life is different?” she said. “I’m dating a much older guy that’s putting little orphan Annie’s death to music, and you think your life is different?”
    I smiled. “Right. Your life is messed up.”
    â€œYou don’t know the half of it,” she said.
    â€œSo tell me. What is so messed up in Emma’s world?”
    â€œNo, no. You first. You tell